Growing up on the hills of Manipal, I loved walking and I liked to walking alone. Somewhere I have lost that simple pleasure. Of course the traffic less roads or the roads with trees on either sides are missing too. Still when I was in turmoil, when I can’t think, when I was exhausted and afraid feeling very very alone I sent for a walk. It was just of those things I did. Sooner or later something comes to me, something that made me feel less liske jumping off a building.
Sometimes I went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, what I discovered was going out was really going in. truly great thoughts are conceived while walking.
Just look at us these days, we live in a series of interiors… disconnected from each other, when we are on foot everything stays connected, for while walking one occupies the spaces between those interiors jus the way one occupies those interiors. One lives in the whole world rather than in interiors built up against it.
These days, when I walk it is not to connect to myself or to feel part of nature, but to get to someplace, a “goal” a “target” so is the vast ocean of human beings rushing, jostling, oblivious to the other person, even getting home is to shut ones self out from other creatures.
These days I have begun to wonder if, things like, home, village, hometown, country are all places that we make up in our own mind. something we dream about and sing about. Maybe it’s not really a place on the map at all, but just a story full of people we meet and places we visit, full of books and films we’ve been to. Maybe that’s why people are no more homesick, there are no languages anymore, so the stories and memories that link also are vanished. Yet, I do not want to be like anyone else, I am walking on the wall, nobody can stop.